


Sisyphus

by solsticezero



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: writerinadrawer, WriterInADrawer 4.03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-24
Updated: 2010-06-24
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solsticezero/pseuds/solsticezero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story was written in response to a Reverse Fandom prompt.  The fandom was Sports Night, the episode I chose was "April is the Cruelest Month".</p><p>This story is part of a short-duration writing contest.  Please do not comment on this story, positively or negatively, until this notice is removed.  If you are interested in this contest please visit http://community.livejournal.com/writerinadrawer.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Sisyphus

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in response to a Reverse Fandom prompt. The fandom was Sports Night, the episode I chose was "April is the Cruelest Month".
> 
> This story is part of a short-duration writing contest. Please do not comment on this story, positively or negatively, until this notice is removed. If you are interested in this contest please visit http://community.livejournal.com/writerinadrawer.

Ianto had been watching the spider for a quarter of an hour before Jack started humming the song. He attempted to keep the curve of a smile out of his voice. "You'll kindly stop."

_"The itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the waterspout--"_

There was no waterspout. But there was certainly rain. It drummed on the roof of the SUV, torrential, obscuring the view through the windows to the point where the stakeout was largely useless. Yet there they still sat, Jack humming the child's song, willing to do anything to keep himself entertained. And so, Ianto realized, was he; watching the struggle of a spider up the slick surface of the windscreen was not one of his normal leisure activities.

"April is probably the worst month to be a spider," Jack mused. When Ianto turned to stare with a single raised eyebrow, Jack grinned. "April showers bring May flowers."

Ianto faced forward, hunching into his coat. "Every month is a bad month for a Welsh spider."

They were quiet for a moment, listening to the roll of rain, Ianto watching the slow, labored progress of the spider up the wet glass. The song was stuck in his head. _Down came the rain and washed the spider out--_

Ianto looked suddenly at Jack. "How do you know those rhymes, anyway?"

He'd caught Jack unguarded; the look on his face at the question was quickly smothered, but it had been there. Anxiety. And no small amount of sadness. "I've been around for a while. You pick things up." He turned his reaction-smoothed face to look out of the passenger window.

Ianto saw the frown in his reflection.

He thought about it for a moment, what it could mean, what Jack could be refusing to say. Then he pinked from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, ducking his head to look out of the driver-side window.

One hundred years. Ianto couldn't believe he'd never thought that Jack might have children.

Silence pervaded the car, cut only by the rain. The spider kept struggling up.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of a short-duration writing contest. Please do not comment on this story, positively or negatively, until this notice is removed. If you are interested in this contest please visit http://community.livejournal.com/writerinadrawer.


End file.
